


Friday I'm in Love

by TheWeaverofWorlds



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Bisexual Bill Denbrough, College Parties, Coming of Age, Drinking, Eventual Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Judaism, M/M, Minor Bill Denbrough/Audra Phillips, Minor Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Self-Discovery, Slow Burn, mentions of Beverly Marsh/Ben Hanscom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22706794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeaverofWorlds/pseuds/TheWeaverofWorlds
Summary: Stan meets Bill Denbrough in the laundry room of their dorm, and is instantly attracted to the other man. He doesn't expect anything to come of it, but when he befriends one of Bill's friends he is instantly drawn into the hurricane which is the Losers Club. He finds friendship, and learns to forgive himself. All the while he is falling further for Bill, and only realizes the strength of his emotions when it is too late. This is a story of love, redemption, and friendship.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 21
Kudos: 101





	Friday I'm in Love

**Author's Note:**

> Catharsis: the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions  
> For all the friendships that are there through the laughter and the tears. CV. MP.

Doing laundry on a Friday night was a habit that Stan had developed his freshman year. If his parents knew that he was breaking Shabbat he would get the lecture of a lifetime, but since moving out of his home he found himself participating less and less in his parents’ religion. Besides doing laundry on Friday night was convenient. His dorm’s laundry room was in the basement, and the seven washing machines and dryers were barely enough to serve the building’s population. At nearly every hour of the day there was always someone doing laundry, or leaving their load in the washers while they were at class, so that there was never a free machine when Stan had breaks from class. Sunday’s were the worst. Unless Stan got up before 7am there was no way he would get a washer until well past midnight. However, he learned that the laundry room was absolutely dead on Friday nights as everyone went out to party. Being underage, and not one to party, Stan found that he didn’t mind staying in on a Friday night to do his laundry. In fact it even gave him time to catalog the birds he had seen earlier in the week and hadn’t had time to document during classes. Stan liked his habits, it helped keep his anxiety at bay. So ever since then Stan did his laundry on Friday nights, and did his best to ignore the guilt that gnawed at the pit of his stomach.

-

One Friday night, near the beginning of his junior year, Stan made his way down to his dorm’s laundry room and was shocked to find the cramped hallway was surprisingly crowded. One man was bent over pulling wet sheets from the washer, while another person leaned against a washer drinking a beer. The third person sat on top of a dryer, an unlit cigarette between her fingers. The woman looked at him curiously as if trying to remember where she had seen him, before turning her attention back to the conversation at hand.

“C’mon, Big Bill, it’s a Friday night, we should be out at a party,” whined the young man with beer. He moved slightly so that Stan could get past him. “I think Mike said his house was having one and-”

“B-beep beep, Richie. I’ve got to w-w-w-wash my sheets now,” the bent over boy stuttered before rising.

Stan was trying his hardest to ignore the group’s presence as he began to unload his laundry. After all the whole point of doing laundry on a Friday night was so that he wouldn’t have to interact with anyone down here. He tried to tune them out as he set the washer to the proper settings, but upon hearing the other boy speak he couldn’t help but turn. Stan’s heart fluttered. Even under the terrible fluorescent lighting, Stan couldn’t help but note how attractive the other boy was. He seemed to be all skin and bones, but what really struck Stan was the boyish curve to his lips and how his nose turned up just a bit at the end. There was the promise of mischief and adventure – something foreign to Stan’s straight-laced lifestyle – it was undeniably attractive. Their eyes met briefly, before the stranger, Bill, turned away.

“Well if someone hadn’t slept in maybe you could have done this before classes,” the woman teased.

“It w-wasn’t me,” Bill said pushing the woman’s leg’s aside so he could open the dryer. “He w-w-wanted to sleep in, and I couldn’t just k-k-k-kick him out.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have brought someone home on a Thursday night,” the man drinking the beer retorted. “Look man, I’m glad you got laid – all for it – but being sexiled on a Thursday night wasn’t the most convenient thing in the world.”

“Well m-maybe you shouldn’t have insisted we go out on a Thursday.” Bill retorted. “B-besides, Richie, you didn’t even come back to the room at all yesterday. You were w-w-ith Eddie the whole time, admit it.”

The woman laughed. “Big Bill gets off a good one. He’s not wrong, Rich, you and Eddie have been spending a lot of time together.”

Richie blushed. “We’re just friends.”

At that the other two just laughed. Bill pressed start on the dryer and led the others out of the room, casting one last glance at Stan. It was only then the he realized that amid the sound of the tumbling sheets, there was also the churning sound of water. He had started the washer ages ago but had been too caught up in the other group’s conversation to leave. Blood rushed to Stan’s cheeks as he hurried to leave.

-

Stan almost forgot about the strange encounter he had had in the laundry room, maybe he would have, but when Monday rolled around he was shocked to see a familiar face peering up at him in his Humanities 3.

“I recognize you,” the redhead said, half-turned in her seat.

“Um, we have class three times a week together,” Stan said.

Her face broke out into a smile. “I know that, but I’ve seen you somewhere else.”

Stan felt the heat in his face. “The laundry room of Donovan?”

Her eyes lit up, “you’re the boy from Friday night.”

Stan nodded.

“I’m Beverly, but my friends call me Bev,” she said holding her hand out.

“Stan.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Sure, the teacher always calls on you in this class. You’re pretty smart, Stan.”

“I just do the readings.”

“How can you stand it?” Bev asked. “The textbook is so dry.”

Stan shrugged. “I could tutor you… if you want?”

Beverly’s eyes lit up again. “You’re one of a kind, Stan. What are you doing at noon?”

“Um getting lunch.”

“You should join me and my friends. I think they’d really like you,” there was a glint in her eyes. Similar to the one Stan had seen in Bill’s which had promised adventure, and although Stan was inclined to say no he found himself nodding.

Beverly winked, before turning forward in her seat just as class began.

-

As Stan scanned the vast dining hall, tray in hand, he began to feel anxiety prick at his stomach. He saw groups of people taking up whole tables, chatting loudly. Everyone seemed to belong to a large group of friends, and here he was looking for a familiar face in the crowd like a desperate freshman. His palms began to sweat, the noise of the room deafening all his senses.

“This is so stupid,” he muttered.

Giving up on trying to spot Beverly, he began to make his way to the corner of the room where the smaller tables were.

“Stan!”

He turned. Across the room he saw Beverly standing and waving him over. An odd sense of relief washed over him as he made his way across to her.

“You made it!” she said beaming at him. “Let me introduce you to everyone. Over there is Richie, that’s Eddie, this is Ben, Mike, and Bill. Everyone this is Stan. He’s in my Hum 3 class.”

“Hey, Stan,” Bill said looking up at him. Stan gulped looking at the other boy.

“You’re in Donovan right?” Richie asked.

Stan nodded.

“Thought I’d seen you around. What’s your major, Stan the Man?”

“Accounting,” Stan said sitting across from Bill.

“R-r-really? That’s amazing!”

“It is?” Richie asked.

Bill shot him a look that Stan couldn’t quite read. “Sure. I’m absolutely t-t-terrible w-w-with n-n-n-umbers. It’s r-r-really cool that you are m-majoring in accounting.”

Stan blushed at Bill’s stuttering defense and couldn’t help but think it was adorable. “Thank you, but it’s not that impressive. It’s just logic.”

“Bill’s right, it’s pretty cool that you can wrap your head around all those numbers,” Eddie piped in, blatantly ignoring Richie. “Eddie Kaspbrak. I think you’re in my Ethics class on Tuesday Thursdays?”

“Um yeah, I thought you looked familiar.” Stan nodded. “So um, what’s everyone’s major?” 

“I’m studying business,” Beverly replied. “I want to start my own clothing company one day.”

“Architecture, with an English minor,” the boy sitting next to Beverly replied.

“History.” Mike chimed in.

“I’m a business major with Bev,” Eddie added.

“Theatre,” Richie said. “Although my specialty is stand up comedy and impersonations.”

“He’s terrible at both,” Eddie whispered conspiratorially to Stan causing him to laugh.

“Eds, how could you? I’m hurt!” Richie said turning to his friend.

“Don’t call me that!” snapped Eddie.

“You know you love it, just like your mom loves-”

“B-b-beep beep, Richie.” Bill said laughing. “I am an English m-m-major, studying to be a w-w-w-writer.”

Stan was surprised at the variety of majors as the only people he even knew on this campus were accounting majors. “How do you all know each other?”

The group looked around, smiling at one another. Mike was the first to respond. “Bill, Eddie, Richie and I come from the same home town. We met Ben and Bev our freshman year through our respective majors and minor, and since then we’ve been pretty close.”

“We’re family,” Beverly explained.

Stan thought back to the few friends he had at school and realized he wouldn’t use that word to describe any of the relationships he had with them. Any familiarity he had with them came from proximity alone. The closest relationship he had was with Patty Blum, a girl he knew from home. While she was sweet, and a good friend, Stan never felt like he could be himself with her. It left an unbreachable distance between them. Something inside of him longed for the closeness this group seemed to have with one another.

“Are you g-g-g-good?” a soft voice asked.

Stan lifted his head to look at Bill. He realized he had been spacing. He smiled a small smile and answered, “never been better.”

Bill’s smile glowed, washing a feeling of warmth over Stan.

Eventually people began to leave for classes. Beverly and Ben were the first to go, followed by Mike and Eddie, then finally Richie. Soon it was just Bill and Stan.

“I’m heading b-b-b-back to D-d-d-d-donavan, w-w-w-w-want to c-c-c-c-c-c-” Bill’s face was getting red. He paused before continuing, “w-w-w-alk b-back w-w-with me?”

Stan’s heart fluttered. “Sure.”

Bill gave him that smile again, and after returning their trays they collected their things and began the trek across campus. The silence between them was comfortable, and while Stan’s mind was going a mile a minute he tried to calm himself down by taking everything in. Under the sunlight, Bill’s hair had streaks of red in it and Stan could begin to distinguish a slight freckling across the bridge of his nose. The sleeves of his flannel were rolled up, and Stan could see how delicate Bill’s wrists were – reminding him of the bones of a bird – fragile, hollow, precious even. There was something beautiful about Bill, an easy charm to him a sensitive softness. Stan began to feel himself loosen up, his clenched fingers began to unfurl ever so slightly as they walked.

As they approached the building, Bill slowed down. “S-s-s-s-some of us are g-g-g-going to the m-m-m-m-movies on T-T-T-Tuesday cause it’s f-f-f-five d-d-d-dollar movie n-n-n-night. You should c-c-c-come, but only if you w-w-w-want.”

“I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“G-g-g-great! I’ll g-g-g-ive you m-m-my number and add you to the g-g-group chat.” Bill said pulling out his phone.

They exchanged numbers before parting ways as Stan lived on the third floor and Bill was on the first. By the time Stan got to his room he saw he had a new notification. He had been added to the “Losers Club.”

-

Being added to the group chat was like being thrown into a hurricane. The first big change was the constant notifications. Stan usually only got texts from his mother asking him if he would be coming home for Shabbat or if he had met anyone, but now his phone was going off all the time. Mostly it was Richie making dumb jokes, or teasing Eddie, with the constant rebuttals from Eddie. The others chimed in around them trying to make plans or discuss other things. The second thing to get used to was all the nicknames that were being thrown around. Ben was called Haystack, Mike and Bill were Mom and Dad respectively, although sometimes that title went to Ben and Bev. Everyone called Richie a Trashmouth, for which Stan was particularly fond of, and only Richie called Eddie Eds, Eddie Spaghetti, Spaghetti Man or any other variant he chose. It was a madhouse, but Stan loved it. Richie began to call Stan “Stan the Man,” and the other soon followed. For the first time Stan felt like he was a part of something. That he mattered. And this was the third, and final, big change. It was the one that mattered the most.

-

Tuesday morning Stan found himself in his ethics class. It was far enough into the semester that everyone knew what was their seat, but there were still several seats open in the front row where Stan sat. He tried not to let the empty seats bother him. After all he liked being in the front. It helped him pay attention. He could usually push past the loneliness and vulnerability the front row brought.

As he was collecting his notebook from his bag, Eddie dropped into the seat beside him.

“Hey, I hope you don’t mind if I sit up here with you?”

“Not at all.” Stan smiled.

“I can’t stand this class. It’s so uncomfortable how old fashioned some of these professors are.” Eddie spoke quickly as if he was afraid of being overheard. “Does it bother you how – I don’t know how to say this – how anti-Semetic the professor is?”

Stan panicked. He had stopped wearing his kippah freshman year. Did Eddie see something particularly Jewish about him? Trying to ignore the urge to bolt, Stan asked, “how did you know I was Jewish?”

Eddie looked surprised. “I guess you don’t remember. We were in the same freshman dorm, I saw that you had a kippah then so I just thought...”

Suddenly Stan felt very tired, and oddly relieved. He had never had anyone to talk to about Dr. Keene’s antisemitism before, and now at last someone who was willing to ask him his opinion. “My parents are pretty orthodox. My dad’s even the rabbi at the temple I attended, but I’m not so sure now. I stopped wearing my kippah, mainly because it’s easier not to. I don’t usually keep Shabbat unless I’m home, and being at college makes it very difficult to keep kosher. I don’t think any of those things make me less Jewish, or a bad Jew, although I’m sure my parents would disagree. I’m trying to figure it out though. But I know that Dr. Keene is an asshole who’s prejudices blind him to other people, and there’s plenty of irony knowing he’s teaching us an ethics course.”

Eddie looked thoughtfully at Stan. “It’s funny what we inherit from our parents. My mother was always afraid that I would get sick so she was constantly giving me medicine or taking me to the ER. I hate that she made me afraid of the world, but I still carry all the medication prescribed to me in my backpack and read health journals all the time. I’m worried for my health, even though I know it’s just her paranoia.”

Stan opened his mouth unsure how to respond.

“Please don’t think I’m comparing my hypochondria to your religion. That’s not it at all,” Eddie rushed on. “It’s just you shared something about how your parents’ beliefs shaped your lifestyle and how it sticks with you even if your not sure its what you believe and well that’s really brave of you to admit and I guess I wanted to show you you’re not alone. I hope that makes sense?”

Stan smiled. “Yeah, Eddie. Thank you.”

Eddie beamed up at him. “Of course, Stan. I’m glad you’ve joined our group. There’s something lucky about the number seven, don’t you think?”

Stan nodded. He felt very lucky, very lucky indeed.

-

After class Eddie invited Stan to come back to his room to do homework.

“My mom insisted I have a single room because she thinks dorms are a hotbed for disease. I mean she’s not wrong, but what she doesn’t know is that half the time one or the other Losers is staying over in my room anyway,” Eddie explained as they walked up to his dorm.

“I thought you chose this college cause it was so far away from your hometown,” Stan said.

“I mean physically it is. But my mom helps me a lot with tuition so she sees the bills. She would know if I had a roommate. Several of us wanted to get a place off campus after freshman year, but she vetoed that idea. She didn’t like the idea of me slumming it in a college apartment.” Eddie shrugged. “Welcome to my room, or as Richie likes to call it Casa Kaspbrak.”

Eddie’s room was smaller than Stan’s as it only needed to hold one of everything, but everything was tidily put away making the room feel more spacious. With the furniture pushed up against the walls, Eddie had made room for a small futon and bookshelf.

“The room looks great, Eddie. I can see why people would want to stay over.”

Eddie beamed. “Yeah well, it’s pretty easy to keep such a small space clean. Only trouble I get is when Richie comes over with snacks.”

“How do you deal with him? He must get on your nerves.”

Eddie blushed. “Yeah, well Richie and I have known each other since kindergarten. I guess you could say I’ve gotten used to him.”

“I don’t know if anyone could get used to him,” Stan replied dryly.

“I know he has an abrasive sense of humor, but he’s a really great friend. He’d do anything for us Losers,” Eddie said jumping to Richie’s defense.

“If you say so,” Stan shrugged. He moved to the futon and began to pull out his homework.

“I hope you know he’s not a bad guy,” Eddie said nervously.

Stan looked surprised. “Of course.”

“It’s just Rich means a lot to me, and I wouldn’t want-”

“Don’t worry, Eddie I’m just teasing.” Stan said gently.

Eddie ran his eyes worriedly over Stan, but believing him he slowly began to relax.

After hanging with Eddie for an hour, Stan left for his next class. He thanked Eddie for having him over before heading to an accounting class. The class dragged on, and Stan found himself eagerly awaiting the evening when he would get to see all the Losers again.

-

Stan learned that Mike was the usual driver, as he had the biggest car, and it was tradition that the Losers go together whenever possible. He had met Bill, Richie, and Eddie at the front of his building as they waited for Mike to arrive.

“Richie, I really wish you wouldn’t smoke,” Eddie whined. “Do you even know how many carcinogens are in second hand smoke let alone the smoke you’re breathing into your lungs? According to the CDC there have been 2,500,000 deaths related to secondhand smoke since 1964. 2,500,000 Richie. Richie, are you even listening to me?”

“Aw Eds, are you worried about me?”

“Don’t call me that!”

“Besides, you know that after your mom and I bang that I like to smoke a cigarette,” Richie said.

“That’s not funny, Richie.”

Richie blew the smoke out from between pursed lips, one brow raised. Stan noticed how careful he was to blow it away from his companions.

“Wanna bet?” Richie waggled his eyebrows ridiculously.

Eddie fumed.

Luckily for Richie, Mike arrived pulling up in his SUV. Eddie and Bill began to walk down the steps leading to the curb. Leaving Richie to put out his cigarette.

“Oh thank, God,” Stan murmured under his breath beginning to make his way down the steps.

“Don’t you mean Yaweh? Eds told me -”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Stan said not even turning to look at the other man.

Richie just chuckled.

Although Mike had the biggest car, that was before Stan had joined the group, and now they found themselves in a predicament.

“Either two people are gonna have to sit on laps, or in the trunk,” Mike sighed.

“You’re driving, Mike, what would you feel the safest doing?” Beverly asked.

Mike sighed. “I got some stuff in my trunk for my grandpa, so I think lap sitting is the way to go this time around. You all might just need to duck some once we get out on the road.”

“Eds can sit on my lap,” Richie offered.

Eddie shook his head, “absolutely not. Do you know how unsafe that is?”

“Well you’re the smallest, Spaghetti Man, so logically -”

“No.”

“Edssssss,” wheedled Richie.

“Richie I said no. And don’t call me that!”

“I can sit on Ben’s lap,” offered Bev.

“Ben’s riding shot gun, I’d rather have who ever is doubling sit in the back,” Mike said.

Bev shrugged like it was no issue. “Rich, come sit on my lap. Eddie can sit in the middle since he is the smallest, and Stan and Bill can figure out their own arrangement.”

Richie sighed. “Alright, Bev, you win. But only cause I don’t want to miss the start of the movie.”

Richie climbed into the car, followed by Eddie.

“D-d-do you m-mind sitting on m-m-m-my lap?” Bill asked Stan blushing slightly.

Stan shook his head, not trusting himself to speak. Bill climbed into the car and Stan followed, perching at the edge of Bill’s lap. Hesitatingly to help steady him, Bill placed his hands on Stan’s hips.

“Is this ok?”

Stan swallowed before replying. “Yeah, of course.”

“Alright, let’s do this.” Mike said shifting the car into drive.

Ben hooked up the aux cord to his phone and New Kids on the Block’s “You Got It” filled the car.

“Ugh not this again,” groaned Richie. But his complaints were being drowned out by Ben and Beverly singing along. Even Eddie joined in, if only to annoy Richie.

If Stan strained his ears, amid the chaos, he could even hear Bill singing along too. He looked over his shoulder to Bill’s eyes brightly watching his own. Stan’s fists tightened as he swallowed, turning back to look at the road ahead. He saw the light ahead suddenly switch from green to yellow, and before he understood what was happening the car began quickly to decelerate.

Stan was knocked back further into Bill’s lap. Instinctively Bill wrapped his arms around Stan’s waist, pressing him to him.

“Sorry guys,” Mike said, turning to check on them.

“Jeez, Mom, you almost killed us,” Richie complained, but even he and Beverly were laughing.

“Sorry.” Stan muttered his heart rate increasing as he noticed Bill’s arms still wrapped around him. 

“Don’t w-w-w-worry about it,” Bill sounded a little breathless, but Stan thought that was probably because he had knocked the air out of Bill. Stan went to move forward again but Bill continued to hold onto him. “D-d-don’t. Um it’s p-p-p-probably safer if you sit b-b-back like this.”

Stan nodded, not catching Beverly’s raised brow to Bill.

They finally arrived at the local movie theater in town, and the timing couldn’t have been better. Richie having grown bored in the confined space had begun to poke Eddie’s arm, calling him cute over and over and refusing to be shut up. Spilling out of the car when they did probably saved Richie from being punched in the throat.

The young adults bought their tickets and snacks before making their way to theater 10. Mike picked the row, and was followed by Ben, Bev, Bill, Stan, Eddie and Richie. The previews had already begun, causing Richie to begin to complain only to be shushed loudly by another patron.

“Jeez it’s just the previews. People always talk during the previews,” Richie retorted in a quieter tone.

The movie itself was an abstracted, psychological horror. Stan spent most of the time studying his sneakers, looking away from the screen as much as possible. In his peripherals he could see Eddie’s head buried against Richie’s shoulder. Ben and Bev were holding hands, but it was Bill’s response that surprised him the most. Bill was watching intently, brow slightly furrowed as if he were studying the movie. He looked like he was trying to solve an equation or figure out a puzzle. It was mesmerizing. During a particularly gruesome moment which had Bev and Richie at the edge of their seats, Stan felt a hand take his. Curiously he looked to see Bill, eyes still unflinchingly turned toward the big screen. The only sign of his discomfort was the tightness of his grasp. Once the moment ended, Bill moved his hand and instantly Stan missed its warmth.

On the way out of the theater Beverly and Richie were chatting eagerly to Mike about the film. Ben and Eddie were talking to Stan all agreeing that horror was not their genre. Bill walked the slowest, head bowed in thought.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Big Bill. What did you think?” Richie asked turning to look at Bill.

Bill raised his head. “I w-w-want to write something like that.”

His friends looked around at one another smiling.

“You will,” promised Eddie. “Maybe one day we’ll be coming to see one of your stories on the big screen.”

“What do you mean we’ll come and see, you spent the entire movie with your head buried in my shoulder. You didn’t see any of it,” Richie teased.

“You could have asked me to stop if you didn’t like it,” Eddie cried back.

“Who said I didn’t like it?”

“You. Just now!”

“No I just said you didn’t actually watch any of the movie,” Richie argued.

“Yeah, well your shoulders are too bony.”

“Excuse me? You didn’t have to use me as a human blindfold. Besides I can’t control the boniness of my shoulders Eddie Spaghetti.”

Stan watched in dismay as the argument spiraled even further out of control.

“I’m not asking you to – and don’t call me that!”

“Anyway, your mom seems to like to jump my bones so maybe-”

“Can you not bring my mother into this-”

“You’re just jealous of our connection.”

“That’s disgusting, Richard.”

“It’s just love, Eddie-bear.”

“Can you two calm down,” Beverly said trying to get in the middle of them. “We’re in public for Christ’s sake.”

“I’m just saying if one of Bill’s stories was turned into a movie, I would come see it. I am a good friend and don’t you dare suggest otherwise.”

“I literally wasn’t! I just don’t see why you paid to see a movie when you knew you were going to spend the entirety with your head in MY shoulder and then complain that I’m too bony for you.”

“That is not what I was saying, Richard. And if you had a problem with it you could have said something. I could have used Stan if it was such a big deal.”

“You would have done that?” Richie asked slowly.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Obviously. He’s my friend too.”

“I see.”

“Richie?”

“No, it’s fine. Let’s go to the car.”

Richie trudged away leaving a shock shelled Eddie. “What did I say?”

“He’ll get over it,” Beverly sighed. “He always does when it comes to you.”

Eddie’s posture relaxed, but his face still showed his displeasure.

The ride back was awkward to say the least. Richie road shotgun, leaving Beverly to sit on Ben’s lap, Eddie on Bill’s, and Stan in the middle. Eddie kept looking like he wanted to say something to Richie but he never did. Mike dropped Bill, Richie, and Stan off at Donovan first.

“Goodnight, guys. See you at lunch tomorrow,” Beverly said rolling down her window.

“G-g-g-oodnight, Bev. N-n-night everyone,” Bill said waving. They watched as the car drove off into the night. Bill turned to Richie. “You r-r-really d-d-d-didn’t need to g-g-g-go after him so h-hard, R-Rich.”

“I’m not in the mood, Bill.” Richie replied fiddling with his glasses.

“Well I h-h-hope you apologize soon. It’s always so awkward w-w-w-hen you and Eddie f-f-f-fight.” Bill said going up the stairs to their dormitory.

Richie sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

Stan followed them into the dorm.

“Have a g-g-good night, Stan. Thanks f-f-for c-c-coming out w-w-with us t-t-tonight.” Bill said with a small smile.

“It was fun. Thanks for the invite. Goodnight you two.”

That night Stan dreamed of red hair, an upturned nose, and blue eyes bright with determination. When he awoke his heart stuttered. He began to realize just how much of an affect Bill was beginning to have on him.

-

Stan’s weeks fell into an easy pattern. On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday he would have class with Bev in the morning and then grab lunch with the Losers. He would then go to his dorm and study for an hour, before heading to his accounting courses in the afternoon. On Tuesday and Thursday he had class with Eddie, as well as several courses in the afternoons.

The following Thursday after going to see the movie Eddie was oddly quiet. He had been out of sorts all week, but this was something new.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think I’m getting sick.” Eddie mumbled.

Stan nodded. “Ok.”

“I actually think I should go see the nurse, if Dr. Keene bothers to ask where I am will you let him know?”

“Sure,” Stan’s brow furrowed.

Dr. Keene did not bother asking.

After class Stan was surprised to bump into Richie who was pacing outside the door.

“What are you doing here?” Stan asked.

“Is Eddie still here, I want to apologize.”

“He left before class started, said he was getting sick so he went to see the nurse,” Stan responded awkwardly shifting his weight between his feet.

Richie groaned, running his fingers through his already tussled hair. “Shit.”

“I’m sure he’s back in his room by now,” offered Stan.

Richie beamed. “You’re right! Thanks, Stan the Man, you’re a genius. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Sure thing, Richie.” Stan started, but Richie was already disappearing into the mass of bodies in the hall. Stan watched with some amusement as the gangly young man bumped into several figures before turning the corner.

-

That evening Stan was invited over to Bev and Ben’s apartment to hang out and play games. When he got there, Richie and Eddie were back to their normal selves.

“Thanks, Stan the Man, I owe you,” Richie said upon Stan’s arrival.

“It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Yes it was,” Bev said coming up to hug Stan. “When they fight it always takes forever for them to make up. You just expedited the process.”

Eddie just smiled from where he was standing. Stan walked over to him. “I thought you weren’t feeling well.”

“Yeah, well I wasn’t in the mood to listen to Dr. Keene’s filth this morning so I needed to say something in case he asked. I bet he didn’t though, did he?”

“No. I can give you the notes from today, though,” Stan offered.

Eddie perked up at that. “I’d really appreciate it.”

“Hey, Stan, what can I get you to drink?” Ben offered from the kitchen. “Bev’s got some beer, but we also have vodka and pineapple juice mixers if you’re into that.”

“I think I’m alright,” Stan said.

“Aw, c’mon Stan the Man. It’ll be fun!” Richie said before offering his cup to Stan. “Wanna try some first?”

“Leave him alone, Richie,” sighed Mike entering from the kitchen with his own can of beer.

“Eddie, you’re not drinking?” Stan asked.

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t drink that often, besides I offered to DD tonight. So if you want to drink I can drive you back and at lunch Bev or I can drive you back here to get your car.”

Stan nodded. “Alright, I’ll have a drink. But only if it’ll make Richie’s jokes more bearable.”

Richie looked affronted, but everyone else laughed.

“Where’s Bill?” asked Stan.

“He’s on his way. Said he had to finish up a project first,” Bev replied.

Within the next fifteen minutes, Bill arrived and was quickly supplied alcohol so that he could as Richie delicately put it “get on my level.”

“So, Bev, my good woman, what are we playing tonight?” asked Richie.

“Let’s get started with King’s Cup, and see where the evening takes up from there,” Beverly replied with a mischievous smile.

Stan soon learned that King’s Cup was a drinking game which involved doing actions depending on what cards were drawn. They sat in a circle around the coffee table, pulling cards and stuffing them under the tab of an unopened beer. They did half a practice round, before deciding to restart and play for real. By this point Stan was already beginning to feel a little bit tipsy.

“Five, guys. Drink up boys!” Beverly called out showing her card to everyone.

Stan, Ben, and Eddie groaned, even though the latter was only drinking water, while the other boys cheered and drank willingly.

Bill drew next. “Eight, date...hm… Stan!”

“What?” Stan was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol so he couldn’t tell if the heat on his cheeks was from Bill’s proclaimed statement or just the booze.

“Means whenever he drinks you drink, and vice versa,” Richie slurred. “Looks like some is trying to get our Stanny drunk!”

“Beep beep, Rich,” Bill replied laughing.

Stan noticed that as Bill got more intoxicated his stutter began to disappear. To be honest Stan missed it, but he also found himself becoming more and more attracted to the other man’s easy charm and wide smile.

“Ten! Never have I ever!” Richie crowed looking at his card. Resignedly everyone put three fingers up. “Never have I ever kissed a girl.”

Bill, Mike, and Ben all put a finger down.

“Never have I ever hooked up with someone in public,” Eddie said looking at Bill.

“Rude, now you’re just targeting me,” Bill said with a smirk putting another finger down.

“Never have I ever been a member of a sports house,” Ben said.

Mike put a finger down. “Never have I ever had sex with a guy.”

Richie, Bev, and Bill all put a finger down. Bill was out.

“Drink, hoe. You too, Stanny,” Richie called out.

Bill gave Stan a sheepish grin before downing his own drink.

Eddie pulled his card. “Queen. What’s queen do again?”

“No one answer!” Richie called.

“Why not?” Eddie pouted.

“Because-”

“Drink!” Eddie cackled.

“God, Eds, I hate it when you’re question master,” complained Richie taking a sip of his drink.

Eddie stuck out his tongue before saying, “you just hate me cause I’m good at it.”

“It’s not fair when you’re sober and the rest of us are trashed,” whined Richie.

Ben pulled a card next, followed by Mike. It was Stan’s turn next. Stan pulled an ace.

“Waterfall, babey!” cried Bev. “Whenever you’re ready, Stan.”

Stan began to chug the rest of his drink. The sour flavor of the vodka was disguised by the almost sickeningly sweet pineapple juice. As if to prove something to himself, and to the others he kept chugging. No one was allowed to stop until he did. Out of the corner of his eye he began to see some of the other’s struggle. He watched as Bill’s face began to redden, and finally satisfied he stopped. Bev was quick to stop as well, but Bill kept chugging if only to annoy Richie. But it didn’t last long. Bill stopped, then Richie. Eddie stopped immediately after Richie, while Ben held out a little longer before stopping. Mike swallowed his last sip.

“Christ, Stan,” Mike panted.

“Actually it’s Yaweh,” Richie chimed in.

Stan just rolled his eyes fondly.

“Yaweh?” Mike asked.

“Uh, yeah. The god of the Jewish Old Testament,” Stan said suddenly realizing everyone was looking at him. “I’m Jewish.”

“But you don’t wear those little hats,” Richie giggled. Eddie elbowed him in the ribs.

“A kippah, and no. I stopped after freshman year.”

“Did something happen?” Bill asked carefully, the game presently forgotten.

“No, it just didn’t feel right to wear it when I wasn’t participating in other parts of the religion. It felt like I was cheating Judaism somehow, like I wasn’t worthy of it,” Stan confessed.

Bill reached out to hold his hand, “you’re always worthy, Stan. You’re not a bad Jew just because you don’t participate in all its customs.”

“Yeah man, you’re the best Jew I know,” Richie added.

Stan began to tear up a little. He had never realized how much it had hurt to cut himself off from his heritage like he had. He missed it.

He felt Mike wrap an arm around him. “Faith is tricky, man. It took me a long time to choose my religion for myself and not because it was what my family raised me in. It’s a struggle, but it is impossible to fail. We all worship in our own ways, and find our own way to honor and celebrate the life we’ve been given.”

Everyone moved to hug Stan as he began to cry harder and harder.

“We love you, Stan,” Eddie whispered.

“You’re such a smart, kind, person,” Ben agreed.

“I didn’t know you were struggling,” Beverly said, “but you are so strong. You’ll find your path, Stan. I believe in you.”

“Christ, look at us all weeping like a bunch of children,” Richie said hastily wiping his eyes.

Beverly laughed breaking the tension. “Shit. Guess the game is over. We’ll save this beer for next time. Who wants to watch a movie?”

Everyone agreed to the idea, and while Ben got everyone snacks and water, Beverly began scrolling through their Netflix account. 

“So what is everyone in the mood for?” She asked.

“Something sweet,” Eddie said.

“Cute, cute, cute,” Richie said jabbing him in the ribs.

“Shut up, Richie.”

“How about To all the Boys?” Bev offered. “Sweet and comforting, just what we all need. Besides who isn’t in love with Peter K? Sorry Mike.”

“Hey, I can recognize a handsome man when I see one. And Kavinsky is definitely a handsome man,” Mike said laughing.

Beverly and Ben settled into a large, overstuffed chair together. Richie, Eddie and Mike took the couch, while Stan and Bill were on the two seater.

The alcohol and tears had left Stan feeling numb inside and as the movie began to play he began to feel tired. Slowly he drifted off to sleep, leaning his head against Bill’s shoulder not caring what emotional damage he may be causing himself in the morning.

-

Around him he could hear people whispering.

“Richie and I should go. Should we wake him or-”

“He can sleep here, we don’t mind.”

“Big Bill, are you coming with us or -”

“I think I’ll s-s-stay,” Bill whispered.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I h-h-hate to w-w-wake him.” It sounded almost fond.

There was the sound of people leaving and then.

“Here are some blankets and pillows. I’ve set up the other couch. Want me to help you lift him?”

“Thanks, B-B-Ben. B-b-but I’ve g-g-got it from h-h-here. G-g-go to b-b-bed.”

“Alright, good night, Big Bill.”

“Night.”

Bill lifted Stan onto the longer couch settling him under the blankets, before going to make his own bed on the shorter couch. Stan rolled over, falling further into his own dreams.

-

When Stan awoke it was mostly dark out. Through the partial light he could see Bill curled tightly into the fetal position across from him. It was the only way he fit on the two seater. That was wrong, Stan should have been there since he was shorter. He watched Bill sleep for another moment. His drunken brain couldn’t figure out if it was creepy or domestic, but he loved the way Bill looked when he was asleep. Poetry about long fingers, and kissable lips drifted through his brain as he feel back asleep.

Due to the discomfort of the old couch, Stan woke again. The light was turning more blue, but it was still far from sunrise. Stan could see Bill’s features in greater relief, the sharp line of his jaw and chin, the hard cheekbones below the soft-fanning eyelashes. Bill was the most beautiful boy, Stan had ever seen. Bill thought he was valid, even though he had forsaken his heritage for convenience. Stan’s heart leaped as his brain struggled to keep up with his emotions. More lines of poetry came to mind, vivid and demanding to be felt.

_Dawn before Shabbat and this is my temple…_

_I never understood temptation until I saw you,_

_A young god in repose..._

_I will worship you til the end of my days._

Stan felt shocked at the depth of his emotion, and he looked over to make sure that Bill was still asleep. Heart pounding, Stan rolled over to try and fall asleep once again.

The next time he woke, the sun was definitely beginning to rise. Everything was bathed by a warm light. Stan rolled over to see Bill still soundly asleep. He had kicked one of his blankets off, and his shirt rode up exposing the pale skin of his hips. All Stan could think of was to praise God for allowing him to see Bill like this.

_Barukh ata Adonai Eloheinu..._

He continued to watch Bill sleep, a soft domestic desire filling his bones.

\- 

As the morning continued on the drunken feeling from last night was replaced by a nausea residing in the pit of his stomach. He felt just a little off, not quite like any sickness he had ever known before. His mouth felt dry and stale. His head ached as the sunlight became stronger, bleaching the room entirely.

“How are you f-f-feeling?”

Stan turned to find Bill looking at him.

“Ugh, hungover.”

Bill laughed. “Yeah, I’m n-n-not surprised. You d-d-d-drank a lot last n-n-n-night.”

Stan groaned. “How come you seem fine? You drank just as much as me, if not more.”

Bill shrugged, “I’ve d-d-d-developed a p-p-pretty strong t-t-tolerance over the years.”

“Mm, I think I’m going to my dorm room and am going to try and sleep this off.”

“Want me to drive you?”

Stan shook his head, “I’m alright to drive myself.”

Bill look concerned. “Alright, if you’re s-s-sure.”

Stan nodded. “Thank Ben and Bev for me?”

“Sure thing, and I’ll ask Bev to take notes in your class for you today.”

Stan offered a weak smile. “Thanks, Bill.”

“And Stan?”

“Hm?”

“T-t-try and eat if you c-c-can. I l-l-like eating c-c-carbs after a n-n-night out.” Bill offered.

Stan smiled a little brighter. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

-

As soon as Stan got back to his room he pulled the blinds all the way down before burrowing deeply into bed. His back ached slightly from spending the night on a couch, but the feeling in his stomach was even worse. He had never felt so terrible in his life. How could people go out and party every weekend? Soon he was sound asleep, praying that when he awoke he would feel better.

By one o’clock Stan was awake, but had no intentions of leaving his bed yet. His phone was full of messages from the Losers.

10:03 am

Bev: Hope you made it home safely! I’ll take notes in Hum 3 for ya!

Eddie: Stan, lmk if you need anything later! Hangovers suck!!!!

Richie: I’d offer to help, but the only thing I can think off is offering to be quiet so…

Ben: OMG, Richie being quiet. A miracle.

Richie: Only for Jewish Boy-Wonder

Eddie: Beep beep, Richie.

Richie: EDS

Eddie: Don’t call me that!

10:30 am

Mike: Hey, there’s a party tonight at the Football House if any of you guys want to come.

Bev: I’m in!

Ben: Sure, I’ll go!

Richie: Hell yeah! Let’s get turnt!

Eddie: Richie, sometimes you are literally the worst.

Richie: And what about the other times.

Eddie: You’re just a trashmouth.

Richie: Rude.

11:00 am

Bill: Stan, will we see you at lunch?

Ben: Hope you’re alive, Stan the Man

Eddie: I have some cure-alls if you need them

Richie: None of your “cure-alls” cure anything, Eds, hate to break it to you

Eddie: My cure-alls are a blessing, and you’re just jealous

Richie: If you want a real blessing you should see my dick

Bill: Beep beep, Rich

Eddie: BEEP BEEP RICHIE

Ben: Beep beep, Richie

Mike: Y’all are a mess.

Bev: Yeah, but you know you love us, Mom.

Mike: :)

By mid-afternoon Stan was beginning to feel better. He could have the blinds open and was moving about in his room. His phone buzzed and he saw a text from Richie.

Richie: Are you going to Mike’s party tonight?

Stan: No, I think I need a night in.

Richie: :(

Richie: Ok

A couple moments later, and Stan’s phone went off again. He looked down at it and smiled.

Bill: Richie said you weren’t going to Mike’s tonight. If you’d like some company I can stop by and we can chill. NO alcohol needed, but only if you want me to!

Stan’s fingers tapped out a quick response: Sounds fun, I’ll see you around 9?

Bill: I’ll be there.

-

Stan was nervous as to having Bill over. Luckily his roommate had gone home for the weekend and left his side of the room relatively tidy. To soothe his anxiety he fell back on his habit of doing laundry on Friday. He knew that he wanted to begin to find ways to honor his heritage more and more, but doing laundry now was something he was so used to and it filled him with a sense of ease. Besides it would give him something to do while he waited for Bill to come over. Maybe if he was lucky and could start his loads now, he would be finished by sundown.

-

Bill arrived promptly at 9, which eased a lot of Stan’s worrying.

“Hi,” Stan said opening the door and welcoming Bill in.

“Hey.” Bill said with a warm smile. He entered the room before letting out a soft gasp, “you’re w-w-wearing your k-k-k-k-kippah.”

Stan’s fingers flew to the soft cap, lovingly grazing it, “yeah. I thought it was about time to take some pride in my heritage.”

Bill smiled. “G-g-g-g-good for you, S-S-Stanley.”

“So...what do you want to do.”

“It’s the S-S-Sabbath, right? Are there specific th-th-th-things you c-c-can’t do?” Bill asked with some concern.

Stan smiled. “Um if I was very Orthodox then yeah, but even my parents aren’t as Orthodox as some. Pretty much I can’t do any labor, but hospitality is highly encouraged so having you over is totally okay.”

Stan flushed a little at the thought that marital relations between a man and wife were also encouraged on the Shabbat. He tried to push the thought from his mind.

Bill smiled, “C-c-c-cool. I b-b-brought s-s-some b-b-b-books over that I thought you m-m-m-m-m-might like. If you w-w-w-want to l-l-l-look at them?

Stan smiled. “I’d like that.”

“R-R-R-R-Richie also sent over some c-c-c-c-comics of his that he thought you m-m-m-might enjoy,” Bill said pulling out several slim novellas as well as a handful of comics.

Stan picked up one of the comics curiously. Across the front of the comic in bold, red letters was the word Shazam!. Stan raised an eyebrow at Bill.

“Rich l-l-loves superhero c-c-c-comics, he thought you might t-t-too,” Bill replied. “P-p-personally I like M-M-Marvel b-b-b-better.”

Stan nodded before gingerly beginning to page through the comic. Although it wasn’t his usual taste, he was touched that Richie wanted to send him something. He found himself enjoying the storyline as Billy Batson learned to become a hero and find his family. Stan could relate to that last part. He found himself smiling at the bright images and being drawn further into the story.

Bill, who was sitting in Stan’s desk chair across the room, watched with a smile gracing his own lips.

-

They sat like that for an hour or so, Stan tried to focus on the comic. But even the glossy pages and lurid colors couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to the boy in his room. Bill seemed to be engrossed in the paperback he was reading. The cover showed an entity of some sort, and two people cowering under its gaze. Bill was most of the way through the book, but he couldn’t have been very comfortable in Stan’s chair.

“Hey, Bill? There’s some room on my bed, if you want.” Stan offered trying to ignore the burn he could feel on his cheeks.

Bill looked up at him. “Are you s-s-sure?”

Stan smiled. “Of course.”

To prove his point he scooted over towards the head of his bed, and offered one of his pillows to Bill. Bill unfolded himself from the chair, grabbing the stack of books before he came to sit on Stan’s bed. The mattress shifted under the new weight. Almost gingerly, as if to not disturb the blankets, Bill settled onto Stan’s bed.

Cautiously, Stan stretched out his legs so that they were on Bill’s. “Is this okay?”

The smile Bill gave him stopped his heart. “Yeah, S-s-s-stan. Here, for when you’re d-d-done the c-c-comics.”

Bill set the books out on the duvet.

Stan smiled. He liked that Bill was comfortable enough to share this part of himself with Stan. More slowly than before both boys returned to their reading. A comfortable silence fell over the two for the next half an hour.

-

Bill’s phone rang, curiously he pulled it out of his pocked before silencing it.

“Who was that?” Stan asked looking up from the horror novella he had been reading.

“B-b-bev. I’m sure it was just a d-d-drunken c-call.” As Bill said it the phone screen displayed another incoming call.

“Are you sure?” Stan snorted.

“D-d-do you mind if I t-t-take it? She’s only g-g-gonna keep c-c-calling,” Bill laughed.

Stan shrugged.

Bill answered the call which turned out to be a video call.

“YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT IS HAPPENING,” Bev yelled to be heard over the music and people.

“What is it?” Bill asked. Stan leaned in over his shoulder.

Beverly tapped the camera to flip it. The room flashed with pulsing LED lights which revealed the forms of Richie and Eddie passionately making out against the wall. The light gave them an unnatural glow, painting their bodies in neon pinks and purples. Eddie was up on his toes, hands wrapped in Richie’s perpetually messy locks. Richie had his hands on Eddie’s ass.

“Oh my god,” Stan breathed.

“It’s about d-d-damn time,” huffed Bill clearly pleased.

Bev flipped the camera again, “Thought you’d like to see that. Enjoy your night lads, I’m going to go find my hot boyfriend and see if I can get some action.”

She winked at them before ending the call.

It was only after she had hung up that Stan realized just how close he had gotten to Bill. He could smell the clean scent of Bill’s shampoo, and he could feel the warmth radiating from where his shoulder was pressed against Bill’s own. Stan hurriedly returned to his spot as he tried to calm his still pounding heart.

He peeked at Bill and still found the other boy gazing at his phone, a fond smile on his lips.

“Hey, Bill?”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Bill looked up, his cheeks pink. “S-s-s-s-sure.”

“Why didn’t you want to go to the party?” Stan’s words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Oh.” Bill pursed his lips as he thought about his answer. “I d-d-don’t really l-l-like going to parties. It’s hard b-b-because I’ve d-d-developed a reputation, so p-p-people expect me t-t-t-to be easy. They f-f-f-f-flirt with m-m-m-m-me, and it’s easier c-c-c-c-cause I’m drunk but they don’t m-m-m-m-m-mean it. They n-n-n-never stay.”

Stan thought back to the night he had met Bill. Bill had seemed so cocky and proud at the time. Talking to Bev and Richie about the boy who had slept over, but maybe it was just a front. “How did you develop such a reputation?”

Bill smiled. “I’m a r-r-r-romantic. I can’t help b-b-b-b-but fall in love with people. The more interesting the b-b-better.”

Stan had to look away. Bill’s gaze was searing into his soul, and he wasn’t sure that he knew how to respond.

“S-s-sorry, that sounded l-l-like a bad pick up line.” Bill admitted. “B-b-b-but it’s true. People interest m-me. I w-w-want to get to know them, but they n-n-n-n-never seem to want me b-b-b-b-back.”

Stan looked up at Bill. “Oh.”

“I -w-w-want to g-g-get to know you, Stan.”

“Oh?” Stan couldn’t help it. His voice was higher and beginning to sound panicked.

Bill smiled. “S-s-sure. We’re f-f-f-f-friends, why wouldn’t I w-w-w-want to get to know m-m-m-more about you.”

Right. Friends. Stan tried to suppress his disappointment and organize his thoughts. He clutched his fingers into a fist, feeling the sharp pin pricks of his nails in his palm. He tried to use the slight pain to distract himself from the sadness that threatened to wash over his body. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything. W-w-what’s your family like?”

Stan ended up talking about how lonely a childhood he had had. How his parents’ expectations had all but suffocated him. He talked about his Bar Mitzvah, and how he hadn’t had a single friend there. It had all been his parents’ friends or members of the temple and their children. He confessed that he had wanted to scream. He had never felt so lonely. 

Coming to college had been an escape. At first he had gone to Hillel International, as it was what his parents expected him to do. He wore his kippah, he did his best to keep Shabbat, but soon he felt like he had never left home. It wasn’t his religion that was the trouble, it was how his parents had used it to manipulate him.

“But meeting the Losers, well... I want to take pride in my heritage. I want to start wearing my kippah, and keeping Shabbat. Maybe one day I’ll have enough courage to face Hillel again. I want to claim my religion because its mine, not because my parents are forcing me.”

Bill smiled. “You’re incredible, Stan.”

Stan pulled away. He felt vulnerable and exposed. Hearing Bill say those words to him, and knowing that he didn’t mean it the way he needed Bill to mean it, Stan felt like he was on the edge. If they continued on this way there would be no turning back. To deflect he ran his hands across his duvet. “Tell me about your family.”

The light in Bill’s eyes faded. “My p-p-parents were g-g-good. They used to l-l-l-love me, we w-w-would go on camping trips together, eat d-d-d-dinners together, go to the m-m-m-movies. It was w-w-wwonderful. But then when I was twelve my little brother, G-g-g-g-g-georgie, had an accident. It was all my f-f-f-f-f-fault. I should have been w-w-w-w-watching him more carefully. The doctor’s say he was l-l-l-l-lucky to only l-l-l-lose his arm. After that my p-p-p-p-parents didn’t speak to me. I w-w-w-went to stay w-with M-m-m-mike until we left for college. G-g-georgie would try to visit b-b-but my p-p-p-parents wouldn’t allow him to. He would sneak out to c-c-c-come see me. I’d scold him, didn’t want him to get hurt again. But it was the only time I got to see him so I was happy. Deep down, I just felt so guilty. He calls me sometimes. M-m-m-mom and Dad refuse to d-d-d-drive him out here to visit, but sometimes I see him when I’m home for break.”

Stan laid his hand on Bill’s own. “I’m sorry, Bill. That must be very difficult for you.”

Bill sighed. “I didn’t m-m-m-mean to put all this on you.”

Stan sighed. “We’re friends. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Bill entwined his fingers with Stan’s. “I hope you get to meet G-g-g-georgie. He would really l-l-l-like you.”

Stan hummed. “I hope so too.”

They stayed curled up together for a bit longer, waiting for things to be normal again.

-

The next day, Stan went to Temple for the first time in years. It felt familiar being back, like slipping on an old coat. It was soothing hearing the rabbi speak, and the hushed tones allowed Stan to think.

On his way out he ran into Patty Blum.

“Stan?” She said, shock colored her tone but more than anything it was warm and welcoming. “I didn’t think I’d see you here. How have you been?”

“I’ve been great, how are you?”

“Not to bad,” she shrugged. “We should catch up, want to go grab some lunch?”

“I promised my friends I would meet them at the diner, maybe some other time?” Stan asked apologetically.

Patty smiled, sunnily as ever, “sure Stan. You text me whenever works for you.”

“I will.” And he meant it.

Stan headed over to Al’s Diner, just a five minute walk from campus. He found his friends waiting in the cramped lobby, the Saturday morning rush in full swing. Beverly and Richie looked like the poster children for a bad hangover, both of them wearing dark shades in doors. However, the newest development was that Eddie and Richie were holding hands.

Stan walked over to them curiously. “So this is...new.”

Eddie beamed up at him. “Yeah. Trashmouth here finally decided to put his money where his mouth was.”

Stan raised an eyebrow at Richie, “not even gonna make a joke about how Eddie just called himself trash?”

“Too hungover,” Richie grumbled. “God, I’m never drinking again.”

“Same.” Agreed Bev.

Bill laughed. “That’s a f-f-fucking lie, and you know it, Tozier.”

Richie just groaned.

Eddie squeezed his hand sympathetically.

“Just cause you’re hungover, doesn’t mean I’m not expecting to hear all the details of how you two finally got your head out from under your asses and got together,” Mike added jovially.

Riche nodded, “food first.”

“Bet you’re wishing for some of my cure-alls now,” Eddie teased, but there was no bite to his voice.

“Why would I need a cure-all when I’ve got you, Eds?”

Eddie ducked his head into Richie’s shoulder.

“Not to bony for you?” laughed Ben.

Eddie shook his head. “Nah. I quite like it.”

Shortly after that they were shown to their table, and briefly after that the waitress came by to get their orders. Once that was out of the way everyone turned to Richie and Eddie.

“So I want details,” Bev started.

“Shut up, Bev, you were there,” complained Richie.

“You and Eddie disappear at the start of the party, and then an hour in I find you making out against the wall. That’s like starting a book in the middle of the story and just being okay with it. I want the start of it, Tozier. Details.” Bev threatened.

Richie buried his head into Eddie’s shoulder groaning.

Eddie patted his already fluffy hair soothingly.

“Well when we got to the party, I was feeling a bit anxious cause there were so many people,” admitted Eddie. “Richie offered going to the backyard to get some fresh air. It was quieter out there, nice.”

Eddie was blushing at this point. “We were just talking, but Richie was just kinda staring at me.”

Richie rose his head to protest, “I was not!”

“Yes you were. Besides, I thought it was cute.”

Richie dropped his head back onto Eddie’s shoulder, refusing to look at any of the other Losers. It was endearing.

Eddie looked so pleased, he resumed running his fingers through Richie’s hair. “It was magical. Even though we were in the backyard of the Football house, and there was a loud party, it was just so nice. My heart was in my throat because I realized that I wanted this with Richie. To always be with him like that night. I think I made some comment about how nice it all was, to try and test the waters and um Richie asked to if he could kiss me.”

“No way.” Beverly gasped.

The story was briefly interrupted as the waitress came with their food. A silence fell over them as they began to eat, but Beverly would not be so easily deterred.

“So Richie made the first move?” She asked skepitcally.

“Look, Bev, I’ve got game.” Richie replied his mouth full of pancakes.

“As if, you two have been dancing around this for years!” Beverly teased.

“And no offense, but I was laying a lot of the groundwork that night,” Eddie added.

Richie pouted.

“Oh c-c-c’mon guys, w-w-we’re hardly being f-f-fair to Richie. He’s got as much game as one legged duck,” Bill joked.

The others laughed.

“Okay, but after the whole confession in the backyard I was the one who convinced Eddie to go back to the party and get drunk,” Richie said. “We had lots of fun then-”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Eddie interrupted.

“Oh we saw the fun you were having,” Stan commented.

“You weren’t even there,” Richie added.

“I might have video called them,” Beverly admitted.

“Oh my god.” Richie rolled his eyes. Eddie blushed.

“So this is for real? You two are really dating?” Ben asked.

“Yeah. It’s for real,” Richie said looking fondly down at Eddie. Eddie quickly kissed Richie’s cheek, still unused to be being able to do so in public.

“Guess we finally have someone to go on double dates with us,” Beverly said.

Ben laughed. “Guess we do.”

“I’m happy for you two,” Mike said. “This has been a long time coming.”

“I can’t wait to tell G-g-georgie,” Bill said.

-

Stan didn’t get to meet Georgie for another week. It was a Saturday when Richie invited Stan to hang out with him and Bev for the day. When Stan got to Richie’s room he could hear voices coming from inside the room. Hesitantly he knocked.

Richie opened the grin a devious look on his face. “Hi, Stan the Man. You’re early!”

Stan frowned. “You said to be here at 3. It’s 3 just now.”

Richie sighed. “Better come in. Bev’s not here yet. I’m gonna go shower.”

“What?”

Richie just shrugged going into the bathroom.

Stan turned to find Bill on the phone gaping at him.

“Hi, Bill.”

“Billy who is that?” came a tinny voice from the computer. “Is that him?”

“Shut up, G-g-georgie.” Bill muttered face flushing. “Stan, come m-m-m-meet my brother.”

Stan approached Bill’s desk and found a young boy looking excitedly into the camera. While he didn’t look much like Bill, he shared that thoughtful expression that Bill sometimes got on his face when he thought no one was looking.

“Hi Georgie, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Stan.”

Georgie beamed up at him. “Oh I know who you are. Bill’s told me lots-”

“Beep b-b-beep, Georgie,” Bill exclaimed.

Georgie laughed. “You know that doesn’t work on me. I’m not Richie!”

“W-w-wishful thinking,” Bill teased fondly.

Stan watched the moment between the brothers with a tenderness that made him long for siblings of his own. 

After his laughter died down, Georgie turned his attention once more to Stan. “So what are you doing in my brother’s room, Stan?”

“Richie told me to come at 3. We’re hanging out today with Bev, but he just went to get a shower.” Stan frowned.

Meanwhile, Georgie looked thrilled much to Bill’s chagrin. “Is that so? You know, Rich takes really long showers.”

Stan frowned. “Maybe I should come back later.”

“Don’t go!” Georgie and Bill said at the same time. Bill’s face reddened as Georgie just started to laugh again.

“Ok,” Stan said softly pulling Richie’s desk chair over. The look Bill gave him made his heart jump in his chest.

Georgie coughed and both boys turned to look at the screen, the teen was smirking at them. “So Stan, Bill tells me you’re an accounting major. Is it boring?”

Stan laughed nervously. “Um, a little. I guess.”

“So why study it?”

“It’s calming, predictable.”

Georgie looked skeptical. “Okay?”

“I don’t mind the work.” Stan shrugged.

“So what do you do for fun?”

“I like bird watching,” confessed Stan.

Georgie side eyed his brother. “Is that so? Bill likes to draw birds. Maybe you should go out together.”

“You like to draw birds?” Stan asked shifting in his chair to look at Bill.

The other man nodded. “I l-l-l-like to draw a lot of things. It helps me w-w-w-with my writing, studying something l-l-like that, technically b-b-b-b-breaking it down.”

“You should show him your sketchbook,” Georgie exclaimed.

“I d-d-d-doubt Stan would w-w-w-want to look at my drawings,” Bill said picking at his flannel.

Stan blushed. “Only if you want. But you don’t have to!”

“Y-yeah?”

Stan nodded.

Georgie huffed. “You two are so oblivious.”

“G-g-g-georgie!”

“I’m talking about the drawings, Bill. It’s obvious Stan wants to see them.” Georige said rolling his eyes.

Stan’s eyes flicked between the two brothers unsure of the sudden tension between them. Finally Bill’s shoulders dropped. He stood to reach the shelf above the desk, causing his flannel to ride up at Stan’s eye level. Stan blushed as he hastened to look anywhere else. He caught Georgie watching him with an indescribable glee in his eyes.

Bill sat back down, oblivious to the sudden panic he had inspired in Stan, a thick leather book in his hands. He passed it to Stan. Reverently Stan paged through the sketchbook. In the margins were phrases that didn’t appear to make any sense. Stan guessed they were quotes from books Bill had yet to write. Mostly the pages showed charcoal sketches of their friends. There were several pages of Beverly, followed by Richie, and Eddie. Stan recognized Mike’s hands on one page, and on the next was clipped an architectural drawing of Ben’s next to a study of his eyes. 

There were pages full of monsters, and birds, and animals. There were studies of Georgie: his upturned nose, his earnest smile. Sketched in the corner was a small paper boat. Stan was so engrossed at this part of Bill’s soul that he wasn’t aware of the silence that had fallen over the two brothers as they watched him turn through the book.

He turned the page and found his own face staring up at him. Stan swallowed, unsure what he was going to say, but he felt as if he had to say something.

“Hi, sluts!”

Richie interrupted the quiet reverie, bounding into the room, and watched with amusement as Bill and Stan both jumped.

“Richie, how m-m-many time do I have to t-t-tell you not to c-c-call p-p-p-eople sluts in front of my brother,” Bill said frowning.

Richie laughed. “Georgie should be happy that his big bro is able to get around as much as he does.”

Georgie laughed. “But he’s such a dork.”

“Let me tell ya, Georgie. Come college the ladies love a smart man.” Richie purred putting his hands on Stan’s shoulders he added, “so do the men.”

“Beep beep, Richie.” Stan shrugged Richie’s hands off his shoulders.

“The lady awaits us, you ready to go?” Richie asked.

“Have been for the past fifteen minutes,” Stan sighed.

“Admit it you liked spending time with the Den-Bros. You should be thanking me,” Richie preened.

Stan rolled his eyes. “That was a terrible pun.”

Richie smiled, “You know you love me, Stanley the Manly. Now say good-bye and let’s go.”

“Bye, Bill. Nice meeting you, Georgie,” Stan said as Richie all but dragged him from the room.

As the door was closing the two men could hear Georgie’s excited shriek, “I though you were exaggerating. You’re in so much trouble.”

Bill’s response was too muffled for them to hear.

Stan looked behind back curiously, but Richie continued to drag him forward.

“So did you like meeting Georgie?” Richie asked.

Stan flushed, “beep beep, Richie.”

Richie merely laughed slinging his arm over Stan’s shoulder. Stan usually hated being touched, but he found the weight of Richie’s arm to be comforting.

“You know you love me, Staniel.”

Stan smirked. Yeah maybe he did.

-

In his efforts try and reconnect with his faith, Stanley sent a message to Patty Blum. She was pleased to hear from him, and agreed to meet him at the student union.

Stan tried not to feel to anxious about their impending meeting, but could feel his nails digging into the sensitive skin in the palm of his hand. His one knee was bouncing up and down as he watched the door to the cafe in anticipation of her arrival.

When Patty arrived, Stan realized she hadn’t changed a bit. She was still as slim and athletic as she had been in high school. Her dark brown hair was tied up, pulling it away from her high forehead. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled at Stan. He rose to greet her.

“Thanks for meeting me, Patty.” Stan said.

“Of course Stan. I’m glad you reached out. What have you been up to?” She asked once they settled into the large arm chairs.

Stan shrugged awkwardly.

“I haven’t seen you at Temple until recently. Is everything okay?” Patty asked, gently guiding the conversation.

Stan clenched his fists again trying to ground himself with the physical pain.

“Stan?” Patty looked concerned.

“I just haven’t been feeling like myself for a long time. I thought I could deny that part of myself if I buried it. But it just doesn’t feel right either,” Stan said softly.

“What do you mean?”

“I always went to Temple and practiced Shabbat because that’s what my parents wanted. I thought at college it would be easier to deny that part of myself. I have ignored it for so long, but I’ve met some people who have led me to realize that it’s okay to take pride in my heritage. I just feel like I’ve been gone for so long that I don’t know how.” Stan’s voice hitched at the end.

Patty’s eyes had gone wide. “Stan.”

He couldn’t take her pity, but when his eyes met hers she saw only kindness.

“We all have our doubts. That’s what makes faith so powerful,” Patty said. Hesitantly she reached out to take Stan’s hand in her own. “I could go with you to Shabbat dinner this Friday. If you want.”

Stan smiled. “Yeah?”

Patty nodded. “Sure. I’ll introduce you to some of my friends, and then maybe we could go to Temple.”

“Stan?”

Stan whipped his head around to find Bill watching them. He had an odd expression on his face somewhere between stricken and pissed.

“Hi, Bill.” Stan smiled up at the other man, not noticing how tightly Bill was gripping his coffee.

“Patricia Blum. Nice to meet you,” Patty said introducing herself.

In his surprise Stan had realized he had forgotten all about common niceties such as introducing two people who did not know each other.

“It’s a p-p-pleasure,” Bill said. He glanced at his watch. “I’m late for class. I’d better go. Nice meeting you, Patricia. I’ll see you around Stan.”

Stan nodded awkwardly, his gaze following Bill until he disappeared from view.

When his attention returned to Patty he saw her smiling softly at him. “He seems nice...when did you two meet?”

Stan flushed and began to recount how he had fallen into Bill’s company.

-

Later that day, Stan had scheduled to meet up with Beverly to help study for the upcoming humanities test. When he arrived at the library he found her nose buried in a book.

“Hi, Bev.” Stan said sitting down at the table.

She slammed the book closed. “Stan.”

“Is something wrong?” Stan asked.

Bev eyed him up and down. “No.”

Stan didn’t seem so sure, but he began to pull out his study materials. “So I thought that we could start with-”

“I just remembered I have to meet Ben. I’ll see you later Stan.” Bev said gathering her things.

“Oh.”

Bev sighed. “I’m sorry, Stan. I just can’t deal with your face right now.”

“Did I do something?” Stan asked panic rising in his chest.

“You’d know if you had, right?” She sounded almost sorry. He watched her walk away, puzzled by the entire interaction.

-

For the next few days things were a little strained between Stan and the other Losers. The group chat had died. He figured that it was because they were all busy with midterms, but a small part of him couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. He missed his friends. He missed talking with Ben and Mike, joking around with Eddie, he even missed teasing Richie for God’s sake. But most of all he missed Bill, and he wondered if he had done something which offended the other boy. The only reason they would close ranks like that had is if one of their company had been hurt, but except for Beverly’s odd behavior Stan had no insights into what had gone wrong.

On Thursday things seemed to be going back to normal as Mike invited Stan to a party at his house. Initially Stan didn’t want to go, but trust Richie to convince him to do things he didn’t want to do.

Stan had been cleaning his room when he received a knock at his door. Upon opening he found Richie and Eddie.

“Can we come in?”

“Um, sure?”

The two men entered. Eddie plopped down at Stan’s desk opening a textbook he had brought with him.

“Um, what’s this about?” Stan asked. He had gotten radio silence from the Losers, and now here were Richie and Eddie. To say Stan was worried would be an understatement.

“We’re here on official party business,” Richie began.

“Excuse me?”

“Mike wasn’t sure his invitation would be taken seriously, so we’re here to persuade,” Richie pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a sinister smile on his lips.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“C’mon Stan the Man,” Richie wheedled. “It’ll be fun.”

“Richie, no-”

“He doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to,” Eddie said not even looking up from his textbook.

“Honest question,” Richie said dropping all humor from his tone. “Stan are you dating anyone right now?”

Stan’s eyes widened at the question. “No.”

“But you want to be, right?”

“Um,” Stan swallowed nervously.

“A certain red head, right?” Richie continued. “Not a Jewish classmate?”

“What?” Stan knew his expression gave away everything.

Richie gave Eddie an I-told-you-so look before continuing on. 

“Things have been weird.” Richie stated, never to hide from the obvious. “Going out together will help make things normal.”

Eddie and Stan shared a look.

“I don’t know,” Stan said cautiously.

Eddie opened his mouth to agree with Stan, but was interrupted promptly by Richie. “Eddie, please. We all need this.”

Richie and Eddie shared a look that Stan couldn’t quite read.

Eddie sighed. “I will never say this again, but Richie might be right.”

Stan shot a betrayed look to Eddie.

“Listen, Stan. Things are off between all of us. Maybe a night together will remind us of all the fun we’ve had. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Stan wasn’t sure that that question soothed him any, but it wasn’t like he had an answer that would shut it down. Resignedly Stan agreed to go with Eddie and Richie to the party.

Richie beamed. “Perfect. We’ll find an absolutely ravishing outfit that a certain someone will be completely unable to resist.”

Eddie and Richie shared that look again, only this time Eddie looked like he was warning Richie to not take it too far.

“I don’t know what’s happened between you two, but you’ll be winning him back tonight. That’s for sure.”

Stan looked bewildered and had no time to protest before Richie set upon his closet.

-  
That night, Stan found himself standing outside the Football House just behind Richie and Eddie. While the other two were dressed relatively normally, Stan felt he stood out like a freak. Richie had thrown him a pair of skinny jeans that Stan hadn’t worn since sophomore year as well as a white undershirt that Richie claimed accentuated his chest. Stan hated it. He felt exposed. He wanted to hide. The loud, indistinct music, and the sound of voices did nothing to abate his panic.

“Oh my god, you guys are here!” Beverly exclaimed. She hopped up from her smoking perch and came and hugged them.

She must have been pretty drunk, because she even gave Stan a hug like nothing had happened. When she hugged him he was enveloped in her warmth as well as the smell of tobacco and booze. It was soothing.

“Sorry, Stan the Man,” she whispered. “I guess I’m still a little over protective, huh?”

She pulled away looking him in the eye.

“Don’t worry about it, Bev.” Stan said anxious for things to go back to the way they were.

Her smile was radiant. She took his hand, stubbing out the cigarette with the other, before leading him into the party.

Instantly the music was amplified. And the only thing grounding Stan was the warmth of Beverly’s hand in his own. She led them into what must normally be the living room but had been turned into a dance floor. They wove their way through the masses of people til they got to the kitchen. It was a little quieter in here. Leaning against the counters chatting were Bill and Ben.

“Look who I found on our stoop,” Beverly said. She let go of Stan’s hand to fall into Ben’s embrace.

“Good to see you guys made it,” Ben said. He handed a red solo cup over to Bev.

Bill looked at Stan before looking away. Stan wanted to say something but he didn’t know what. Besides it was too loud for any real conversation. Richie and Eddie moved to get drinks, Bill followed them.

Beverly gave Stan a sad look. “Oh Stan, it’ll be alright. I promise. Tell him things will all work out, honey, tell him.”

Ben said nothing, and Stan knew it was because the other boy couldn’t bear to lie to him.

Beverly pressed her cup into Stan’s hands. “You look like you could use it more than me. C’mon, honey, let’s dance.”

Beverly pulled Ben into the other room leaving Stan to his thoughts. His eyes wandered to where Bill was standing by the large plastic container holding the jungle juice. He was chatting to someone Stan didn’t know, laughing at what they were saying.

Stan realized he was hyper-aware of Bill’s presence. He noted everyone who came up to talk to the other boy, leaning in intimately to be heard over the loud pounding music. The alcohol increased the hurt tenfold, but anything Stan might do would only make things worse. They were friends. That was all. And it cut Stan up on the inside.

Stan watched a pretty red-headed girl make her way up to Bill. She was a little unsteady on her feet, causing her to fall. Bill caught her with ease, make a joke to relieve the tension between them both.

The young woman blushed looking up into Bill’s eyes and Stan felt a pang of jealousy. Bill righted the young woman, eyes flicking over to Stan, before returning to his companion. Stan noticed that although she was back on her own two feet she had yet to let go of Bill’s arm.

Stan watched as the woman whispered something in Bill’s ear. He nodded before being pulled further into the party. Stan resisted the urge to follow them and instead turned back to the kitchen. His hands were clenched into fists and the only thing he could concentrate on was the pain.

“Stan! Good of you to come!” Mike said upon entering the kitchen. “Is everything alright?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Stan snapped back.

Mike got a soft look on his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make assumptions. Just for a second there you had this look on your face...”

Stan could feel himself unraveling around the edges. “Uh, Mike. Do you have somewhere I could go? Just to think?”

Mike nodded. “C’mon I’ll take you to my room. It should be quiet up there.”

“Thanks.”

Mike led Stan through the party, and again he was comforted by the solidness of his friends. When he saw Bill and the mystery woman dancing, he only tightened his hold on Mike’s hand.

Mike’s room was on the second floor. Up here the sounds of the party were muted. A window was propped open and the cool fall air drifted into the room. Stan found himself sobering up. “Thanks, Mike.”

Mike smiled. “Of course. Do you want me to stay or would you rather be alone with your thoughts?”

“Would you mind staying?” Stan asked fingers curled into fists. _He’s going to say no. He would rather be having fun. No one likes to be with a sad drunk._

To Stan’s surprise, Mike’s smile grew. “I was hoping you would ask. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, I can put on some music and we can just sit here in the quiet. Or if you’d prefer we can talk.”

“Music. For now.”

Mike got up and fiddled with his phone, connecting it to the speakers. Instrumental music filled the room, and the sound of bird calls echoed around the space. Stan looked at Mike with some surprise.

“I like to listen to this after a game. It calms me down,” Mike admitted.

Stan smiled. “It’s nice.”

“Do you recognize any of the bird calls?” Mike asked.

Stan tilted his head. He pushed away the thumping base from downstairs; burying his hurt feelings, the longing for Bill, and just listened to the music. He shut his eyes, and instead of seeing blue eyes he saw the dense woods of his childhood. The trilling repeated and Stan was transported to the springtime in Maine. It was a call he had heard often and knew well.

“That one is a pine warbler. There used to be a pair that nested outside my bedroom window.” A soft smile tugged at Stan’s lips at the memory.

When he opened his eyes Mike looked impressed. “That’s amazing, Stan.”

Stan blushed. “Nah. It’s kinda lame. Who wants to go to a party and have someone identify bird calls?”

Mike was about to reply when the door fell open. It was Bill and the woman he had been dancing with. From their rumpled appearances it was clear they had been making out. But that had stopped when Bill saw that the room was occupied. Mike and Stan stared at Bill and the woman who stared right back.

Bill didn’t appear to notice Mike, his eyes remaining on Stan.

An unsettling hush fell over the room.

“I didn’t think anyone would be in here,” Bill said. “Audra, these are my friends Stan and Mike.”

“Nice to meet you,” Audra giggled as she stumbled a little.

Mike nodded.

Stan could feel his nails digging into the soft flesh of his palm. His voice caught in his throat and he couldn’t say anything. He just stared at Bill’s lips which were flushed from their previous activity.

“I think we’d better go,” Bill offered ushering Audra back into the hall.

Once they were gone, Stan didn’t relax. “I think I should leave.”

“Stan, you don’t have to,” Mike said softly.

Stan shook his head. 

“Stan.”

Stan looked down in the hopes that Mike wouldn’t see the tears threatening to spill over in his eyes.

Mike followed Stan’s gaze and stopped upon seeing his hands. “Stan, do you always clench your fists when you’re upset?”

“Huh?”

Mike came over to him and gently pulled Stan’s finger’s from his palm. He ran his fingers over the angry marks on Stan’s palms. At least he hadn’t drawn blood. This time.

“Stan.”

Stan was done in by the gentle concern in Mike’s voice. Tears began to stream down his cheeks. Mike pulled him into an embrace. One hand tangled in Stan’s curls, holding him to the taller man. “It’s going to be okay, Stan. Whatever it is, we’re here for you. Richie, Eddie, Beverly, Ben, Bill, and I are all here for you. You don’t have to deny your emotions, it’s okay to tell us things.”

Stan sobbed harder.

Mike just let Stan cry, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down Stan’s back. “Let it out, Stan. It’s okay.”

Stan finally regained some of his control and he pulled away from Mike. “Promise you won’t tell the others about my weakness.”

“Stan it’s not weak-”

“Mike, please?”

Mike nodded. “Sure, Stan. I promise.”

“Thanks. I’m going to head back to campus, give the gang my regards.”

“Do you want me to walk back with you?”

Stan shook his head.

“Okay. Text me when you get back ok?”

Stan promised. 

-

Stan texted Mike that evening before curling up into his bed. Even before he had met the Losers or when the group chat had abandoned him, he had never felt quite so alone.

-

The next day was the big game. There was a feeling of anticipation hanging over the campus for the entire day. The game was scheduled for 3 pm, but Ben and Eddie had made plans for everyone to meet up before hand for some good old fashioned tailgating...or as close to that as they could get on their small campus.

They had decided to meet at Ben’s truck in the parking lot. Stan and Richie arrived together to find everyone, but Mike and Bill sitting in the truck bed. Upon their arrival Ben got up and offered them a hand to climb into the bed.

“Thanks, Haystack. Where’s Big Bill? Thought for sure he’d beat us here,” Richie asked taking a beer from Ben.

“I think he said he was meeting up with a someone first,” Eddie said cautiously.

Stan knew in the pit of his stomach that it was Audra. He tried to tell himself he was being paranoid, delusional, jealous, possessive, anything to deny the validity of the belief. But there was no denying Bill and Audra walking up to Ben’s truck hand in hand. There was no denying Audra’s shy smile, and Bill’s confident one. Stan’s heart sunk, he wasn’t sure if he hated himself for being right or hated the universe for getting off a good one.

Bill climbed into the truck before helping Audra up.

“H-hi guys,” Bill was doing his best to control his stutter, and Stan hated him for it. “This is A-audra.”

“Hi, Audra,” Beverly said warmly. “Thank god there’s another woman around here. I needed someone who I could have some girl talk with! Eddie doesn’t count.”

“Hey!” Eddie squawked. Richie just laughed.

Eddie sighed resignedly, “Ignore him. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Hey Audra, didn’t expect to see you here,” Richie said.

She smiled at Richie, “hey Rich. Didn’t know you knew Bill.”

“Do you t-t-two know each other?” Bill stuttered.

“You could say that,” Richie shrugged. Before he could explain Ben came up to introduce himself.

“Hi, Audra. I’m Ben,” Ben said shaking her hand.

“You m-met S-stan last night,” Bill said nodding at Stan.

Audra flushed at the memory and she and Bill shared a look that sent daggers into Stan’s heart.

“Nice to meet you, Audra,” Stan said clenching his fists.

Before he could move away, Eddie caught his arm and pulled him over to sit with him and Richie. He slid his hand down Stan’s forearm, past his wrist, and gently forced his fingers between Stan’s own. He held Stan’s hand, fingers interlocking the other man’s. Stan looked down at their hands before looking up at Eddie.

“That’s better. Isn’t it Stan?” He had such a sunny smile, but his tone was gentle as if afraid Stan might break.

Stan shot a look over to Richie, sure that Eddie’s boyfriend would have something to say on the matter, but he found the other man talking amiably to Bill.

“Eddie-”

“Stan, it’s okay to be upset. But you shouldn’t have to hurt yourself to make it bearable. Do you understand?” Eddie said it under his breath so no one else would hear.

“How, what-”

“Mike.” Eddie said as explanation. “He was worried and told me and Rich to look out for you today. I’m sure he knew Bill would invite Audra to the game.”

Stan nodded trying to suppress the growing emotions in his chest.

“It’ll be okay, Stan the Man.” Eddie said leaning his head against Stan’s shoulder.

Stan tried not to pay attention to how many times Audra and Bill found excuses to touch one another. He tried not to count how many times their eyes met, how brightly they shone, how loudly they laughed. He focused on the warm pressure of Eddie’s hand and head and how many times Richie glanced over at them as if checking that they were alright.

Richie finally managed to split up the love birds, with some help from Bev. He was in deep conversation with Bill while Beverly and Audra were laughing about someone they both knew.

“Stan?”

Stan whipped around to find Patty staring up at him. Slowly he let go of Eddie’s hand. He stood to face her.

“Hi, Patty.” Stan said.

Bill looked over at the two of them curiously before recognition crossed his face closing off any interest he may have had. “W-w-w-why d-d-d-d-don’t you invite your f-f-f-friend to join us, Stan.”

“Bill,” Richie cautioned.

“P-p-p-patty, r-r-r-right?” Bill said. “We’ve g-g-got plenty of beer left.”

“Bill, c’mon. Leave the poor girl alone.” Ben murmured.

Audra looked confused. Stan guessed she had never heard Bill stutter so badly before.

“I’d better go,” Patty said awkwardly. “Besides I’m meeting up with some friends. I’ll see you later, Stan.”

Stan watched her go.

“Sorry, Stan. I t-t-t-t-thought you would have wanted your g-g-girlfriend to join us.” The haughty tone had disappeared just as quickly as it had come. Instead it was replaced by regret. Stan had never seen Bill look so defeated.

He realized Richie was tugging at his arm, pulling him back to where Eddie was sitting. “C’mon Stan. Jesus, Bill. What was that?”

Bill sighed before turning to Audra. “We should g-g-g-go if we want to m-m-m-meet your friends for the game.”

Audra nodded awkwardly, before leading the way towards the stadium. Bill followed, but not before looking at Stan one last time.

Once they had left Stan turned to look at his friends. “What the hell was that? Does Bill really think I’m dating Patty?”

Beverly looked around to see if anyone would answer Stan’s question before making up her mind to do it herself. “Yes.”

“Oh,” Stan’s voice sounded hollow even to himself. “Do you guys think that too?”

“No,” Eddie said. “We know you don’t like Patty that way.”

Richie and Ben nodded. Beverly remained silent.

“Bev?” Stan asked.

Beverly looked down. “Look when Bill saw you that day at the student union he made an assumption that you were. He came to talk to me about it, but asked that we keep it between us. That’s why I snubbed you when you came to help me study.”

Stan nodded, not entirely following. Why should Bill care who he dated? “If you were the only one who knew how come the group chat died?”

“Oh that’s easy to explain we made a new one without you,” Richie said blithely.

“Richie!” Eddie sounded horrified. “It wasn’t like that, Stan. I assure you.”

“Yeah? What was it like then?” Stan said battling off the hurt and rejection he was feeling.

“You weren’t a part of it, but neither was Bill,” confessed Eddie.

“Why?”

No one would look at him.

“Because, Stan, we all knew how much you two liked each other and how little either of you were going to do anything about it,” Ben finally confessed.

Stan’s heart faltered. “You what?”

“Stan I don’t know how to tell you this, but Bill’s been attracted to you since meeting you in Donovan’s laundry room,” Beverly said slowly. “That’s why he got so upset when he thought you and Patty were a thing.”

“We weren’t sure if you felt the same way until we asked you,” Richie said. “You’re not the easiest person to read.”

Stan felt numb. Bill had liked him, but now he had missed his chance because Bill was with Audra. It was obvious that they liked one another. Bill was probably better off going with Audra as she seemed well adjusted, sane even.

“Stan, are you okay?” asked Eddie.

“The party...”

“Yeah. It was Mike’s idea to invite you and Bill. He thought maybe you two would reconcile there,” Beverly replied. “Pull a Richie and Eddie, if you will.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” Beverly sighed.

“It’s not to late to explain all this to Bill-” Richie started.

Stan glared at him. “Why didn’t you tell him when you found out?”

The Losers looked around at one another uneasily.

“We thought it would be better coming from you,” Eddie replied at last.

“Well it’s too late for that now isn’t it.”

“We didn’t think he’d try and move on so quickly,” admitted Ben uneasily. It wasn’t like Bill to go for the casual, easy relationship.

“Stan, Bill just met Audra. I’m sure if you talked to him-” Beverly began.

“He’s happy, Bev. Isn’t that what you wanted all along? He’s better off without me anyhow.”

“Don’t you dare say that about yourself,” Beverly replied.

Stan shrugged listlessly. “It’s true.”

“It is not,” Beverly said taking Stan’s hands into her own. “I know it’s scary, but you need to talk to Bill. Okay? Can you do that?”

“I...I don’t know,” Stan bit his lip.

Ben came up and wrapped an arm around Beverly’s shoulders. “No matter what you do, Stan. We’re here for you. We want you to be happy too.”

Eddie nodded.

Richie rolled his eyes. “This is sweet and everything, but if we stay here much longer we’re going to miss Mike’s game.”

Stan gave a small smile which gave permission to everyone else to relax. They packed away their things, and Bev and Richie led the way to the stadium. Eddie walked with Stan, to ensure that the other man was alright.

-

After a home victory there was another party planned in celebration at the Football House. Stan was nervous to go back to the house, but Mike begged him to come and celebrate. Eventually Stan promised he would show up after going to Shabbat dinner with Patty. Meeting her friends had taken longer than Stan was expecting. He enjoyed the conversations and found that he had lost track of the time.

When he arrived at Mike’s house the party was in full swing. If that’s what one could call it.  
The party was much smaller than the previous one, more intimate. On the front porch a few people stood around holding beers and smoking. From inside, music was playing, but it was nothing like the previous night. The house reeked of beer and weed.

Bill was siting on a raggedy couch in the living room surrounded by the other Losers. Audra was on his lap. His arms were wrapped around her waist, and when he saw Stan come in he leaned in to whisper something into her ear. She giggled, twisting around in his lap to whisper a response. Stan couldn’t help but feel self conscious at that. He tried not to let his jealousy show as he went to sit by Eddie.

“So, Audra, what’s your major?” asked Mike.

“I’m a theatre major.”

“That makes sense,” Eddie sighed. “Besides us, Richie only seems to know theatre majors.”

Richie smiled, “what can I say? I have exacting tastes.”

Audra laughed, “Richie’s funny. He makes the whole department laugh.”

“Richie, our Richie?” Stan asked sarcasm heavy in his voice.

Audra looked uneasy. “Yes?”

“Hm, doesn’t sound like Richie. His jokes usually land flat.”

“Stanley, I’m hurt” Richie feigned mock pride.

Stan rolled his eyes. Even though he was uncomfortable he had missed joking with his friends.

“What about you, Stan? What do you study?” Audra asked.

“I’m an accounting major,” Stan said.

Her nose wrinkled.

“Something wrong with that?” Stan asked.

“Oh well, it’s just business is the enemy of all art,” Audra said dismissively.

“Excuse me?”

“Well artists create, business majors just capitalize everything and put a price on things.” Audra explained. “I’m surprised you all would be friends with such a person.”

“A-a-audra,” Bill cautioned. “Come on. Be reasonable.”

“No. You’re a writer, Bill. You should know what I mean. Don’t you want to create stories without worrying about if they will be commercially successful? Or Ben, don’t you want to design buildings without worrying about the cost, to be able to create something beautiful for the sake of beauty?” Audra was getting heated.

“Well sure,” Ben said slowly. “But it’s not Stan who’s putting the price on things.”

Audra sniffed. “Maybe not him, but people like him. People who think like him.”

Beverly stiffened. “What do you mean, people like him?”

“Beverly, it’s fine.” Stan suddenly felt exhausted.

“Is this a racial thing, Audra?”

Audra blanched. “No. It’s not. It’s a business thing.”

“Sure it is.” Beverly shrugged. “I need a drink. C’mon, Ben.”

Beverly dragged Ben into the other room, her face red with anger.

“Audra?” A pretty girl with blonde hair and another boy stopped by their group.

“Hey, Greta!”

“Belch and I were going to go out for drinks, do you and Bill want to come along?”

Audra smiled. “Absolutely. Bill?”

He shrugged, allowing himself to be dragged away.

“G-good night, everyone,” Bill said awkwardly over his shoulder.

Stan watched them leave, oddly disappointed by the outcome.

“You okay?” Richie asked.

Stan nodded. “I’m tired of everyone walking on eggshells around me. I’m fine.”

Richie frowned. “Audra has unique views about the arts. Not every theatre major is like her.”

Stan nodded not really paying attention. Conversation swelled around him, but all Stan could focus on was the dirty, crooked baseboard running around the edge of the room. He tried not to wonder what Bill and Audra might be doing.

-

The next morning, Stan went to Temple and allowed the quiet holy sphere calm his soul. For a little while he was able to forget about the pain and loneliness. The rabbi’s low smooth voice washed over the congregation, reminding Stan of when he was very little. Once upon a time his father’s voice had sounded serene and kind to Stan. Hearing his father tell stories from the Old Testament had fascinated him as a child. For awhile he had wanted to become a Rabbi to study the Torah, but after his disastrous Bar Mitzvah his opinion had changed. However, the wounds his father had inflicted were slowly beginning to heal. He looked over to where Patty was sitting and saw her smiling at him. He was glad that they had rekindled their friendship.

After the service they met on the steps of Hillel International.

“How are you doing, Stan?” Patty asked. “I know you’ve been going through a rough patch.”

Stan shrugged. “I’m fine.”

Patty raised an eyebrow, but before she could question him further her face transformed to one of surprise. Before Stan could ask what caused the change, Patty took him by his shoulders and spun him around.

Standing a little way away from them was Bill holding a small bouquet of flowers. Bill blushed as he made eye contact with Stan. Slowly he walked over to them. “C-c-can we t-t-talk?

Patty smiled. “I should go. Bye, Stan!”

Stan’s fingers instinctively curled in on themselves before he remembered Eddie taking his hand. Mike touching the red bumps on his palms. He loosened his grip. “What do you want?”

“D-d-do you really w-w-want to t-t-talk here?” Bill asked eyeing all the people the were watching them curiously.

Stan shrugged. He wasn’t feeling particularly generous at the moment. He eyed the flowers. “Those for Audra?”

Bill’s eyes widened comically. “N-n-n-n-no. T-t-t-there f-f-f-f-for y-y-y-you.”

Stan had never heard Bill stutter so badly before. Gently he took the bouquet from Bill. His fingers graced the white petals and was instantly surrounded by the aromatic scent of myrtle. He was reminded of the bouquets his father used to give his mother.

“I r-r-read that m-m-myrtle is a Hebrew symbol of l-l-l-” Bill seemed to choke on the word.

Stan was touched that Bill had gone to the effort. “What’s this for, Bill?”

“Can w-w-w-we p-p-p-please t-t-talk somewhere else,” Bill asked.

Stan nodded. He led Bill into Hillel’s lobby. The crowd from Temple had mostly dispersed, and Stan found a quiet corner by the large bay windows. He sat on the sill, the sun warming his back. “Okay, so you wanted to talk?”

Bill sat on the edge of a nearby couch. “I w-w-want to a-a-a-apologize to you, Stan.”

“What for?” Stan’s mouth had gone dry.

Bill fidgeted with his hands. “I’m in l-l-l-love w-w-with y-y-y-you.”

“What?”

“G-g-getting to k-k-k-know y-y-y-you h-h-has…d-d-damn this stutter,” Bill exclaimed.

Stan’s shock was beginning to be replaced with a euphoria he couldn’t name. “I think it’s cute.”

Bill blushed. “R-r-really.”

Stan nodded. “Of course. It’s part of you. Why wouldn’t I find it attractive?”

Bill sighed. “I’ve m-m-messed t-t-things u-u-up b-b-b-between us. W-w-when I saw you and P-p-patty t-t-together at the cafe I t-t-t-thought you were d-d-d-dating. I was j-j-j-jealous. So when Audra started f-f-flirting I l-l-let her.”

“What changed your mind?” Stan asked softly.

Bill looked down at his hands. “L-l-last night Audra w-w-wanted to hook up. I r-r-realized that I c-couldn’t do that, not if there was still h-h-hope of you liking me.”

“Oh.”

“It w-w-wasn’t fair of me to l-l-lead her on. B-b-but she wasn’t too upset. Audra is a c-c-casual sort of person. She isn’t looking for something serious. She f-f-flirts the w-w-way fish t-t-take to w-w-water.”

“Oh.”

“Stan, say something p-p-p-please.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Stan was stunned.

“That I have a chance. That it’s not t-t-too late.”

Stan laughed. “I’m not good with my emotions. I don’t like them. I deny them.”

“W-w-why? Why do you feel like you have to k-k-keep it all b-b-b-buried up inside of you?” Bill asked.

“I like being in control of things, but my emotions are out of my control. They make me irrational, like I can’t organize them neatly, or control them. I don’t want to be vulnerable.” Stan admitted looking down at the white flowers in his hand. They were shaking. No. His hands were shaking. Tears threatened to spill over, and Stan felt the irrational loss of control that he so detested.

“B-b-but that’s what makes us human.”

“I don’t want to be human.”

“You d-d-d-don’t mean that.” It came out so gently that Stan couldn’t help but look up.

“Of course I don’t mean that. But I’m scared of my emotions. Scared of what they make me feel. How I want to behave if I give into them. It’s not civilized. I’ve never been so jealous of someone in my entire life, but at the same time I was happy that you were happy. And I wanted it to be a lie, but it wasn’t. I could bear you being happy without me, because I’m don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve that sort of happiness.”

“Stan, w-w-who told you t-t-that?”

“No one. I’ve always known it.”

Bill moved to Stan, but he recoiled.

“I’m afraid that if I give into this happiness I’ll only be hurt. I’m not casual, like Audra. I can’t just flirt and hook up. I need to be sure.”

“Remember w-w-what I told you that n-n-night in your room?” Bill asked. “About my reputation? P-p-people don’t stay. They a-a-always say they w-w-will, but they don’t. They’re charmed by what they think they know about me b-b-but once they find out that I w-w-write horror stories, and that my stutter w-w-worsens when I g-g-get emotional they l-l-l-leave. Maybe we b-b-both deserve to take a chance w-w-with someone who will stay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Bill had an adorably puzzled look on his face.

Stan set the flowers down before closing the short distance between them. He embraced Bill, rejoicing in his solidness. He felt Bill gently thread his fingers into his curls, the sharp feeling of Bill’s collar bone against his cheek. Tears spilled out, but for once they weren’t from sadness. Stan had never felt so happy.

Bill pulled away slightly and looked Stan in the eyes. “I w-w-want to take this slow. I w-w-want it to matter.”

Stan nodded.

“C-c-can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” Stan whispered.

Gently Bill brought his lips to Stan’s. It was a soft, chaste kiss which promised the world. One of Bill’s hands was still tangled in Stan’s hair while the other was wrapped around his waist. Stan’s own hands were on Bill’s broad shoulders. They separated only when the need for air became to great. Overcome with emotion Stan buried his head into Bill’s shoulder once more. Bill carded his fingers through Stan’s hair, holding him close.

-

Not much changed once Bill and Stan begun dating. The Losers still went to five dollar movie nights on Tuesdays, but now Bill and Stan held hands throughout the whole film. Bill and Stan spent more time together, enjoying one another’s company, while still being independent enough to make plans with their other friends. When they went out bird watching Bill drew Stan, and amid the bird calls Stan found the quiet scratch of charcoal on paper to be one of his new favorite sounds. They still went to parties as a group, but now Bill was with Stan making sure he was having a good time. Eventually Stan invited Bill to come to Shabbat dinners with him. Bill had beamed at the invitation. He did everything he could to prepare for the night, asking Stan plenty of questions beforehand. Bill got along with Patty and her friends, seamlessly fitting into this part of Stan’s life. And once Patty saw how happy Stan was with Bill, she warmed to him too.

Richie teased them relentlessly at how slow they insisted on taking things, but the others seemed to get it. They had their whole lives ahead of them, there was no reason to rush. Stan had found a group of people who loved him, as well as a way to balance his heritage with the man he had become. He no longer did laundry on Friday nights. He had found a much better pastime in spending the night with his boyfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, losers! This story was so much longer than I was anticipating it to be, but it was the catharsis I needed. I think I've been working on this thing for like a month now? And let's just say I needed this.  
> Anyway, thank you so much for giving it a read! And if you feel so inclined please leave a comment below. Tell me what you liked, what you hated, anything really. I love to hear your thoughts. I already have an idea for another IT fic, but we'll have to see if I actually get around to writing it.  
> Fondly Yrs.  
> TheWeaverofWorlds


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